As Wobbles turned back around to face the knight, she saw the woman stood over her comrade and inwardly remarked that that'd be something she'd do if she was partnered with pretty much anyone else in the history of sentient life. She grabbed a miraculously unbroken stack of plates nearby and leaped into the air, hurling them like discuses at Alleb's wavering guard before grabbing a nearby table by the leg and swinging it like a tomahawk at the knight's midriff.

It was at this point that the first of a barrage of water jugs hit home, shattering on the back of her head, her enormous rainbow-striped wig doing only so much to cushion the impact.

As of half a minute ago, a large fight was sparked in the HQ cafeteria.

Roughly a minute or two before that, a woman wearing coveralls slammed into the room, a young assassin freaked out about government conspiracies (even in the PPC you can't escape those, it seems) and attacked the newcomer, and the assassin was knocked down with ease with a broom of all things.

Afterwards, the newcomer issued a challenge to the whole cafeteria and for a word, hell broke loose rather quickly, because that's just how things roll on some days that end with 'y'. Especially because someone— who?— yelled out "Everyone attack!".

Unfortunately the woman disappeared rather quickly into the now roiling crowd, so that's a bit of a failure mode.

You're already here, so.

Anyone up for fighting?

Sometimes, it's just fun to RP a brawl, which is exactly what is going on here!

A few rules to lay down for this one:

You've got to have permission this time.

No godmoding— this means controlling other people's characters without their permission or agreement as to what happens next. Don't assume what a character's reaction will be to something your characters do.

No, you can't actually track the woman who sparked the whole incident off. There are reasons. Promise.

This is a good, lighthearted fun brawl. Please don't kill anyone off.

If your characters wouldn't actually be fighting at all, well, they could always be there spectating or trying to place bets.

"Are you sure about this, Mia?" he asked, peeking out from behind the tables they'd set up as a tiny stronghold. "We could just leave. The door's right there."

Mia hurled an apple--they had captured a bag of them from the food line--at an exceptionally pale girl across the room, grinning as her mark fell. Then she turned to her partner with a flat look behind her sunglasses. "Just like you, Greenie," she said, hefting another apple. "This is a war zone. There's no leaving until the war's done."

Michael peeked out again in glum silence. They were, in fact, blocking the door with four tables set out in a rough square. He could have left easily. But it was best not to anger Mia--especially when she had ammunition so close at hand. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and took out a Muggle-use wand. Maybe he could Stupefy everyone and end the fight that way. I just want some lunch, he thought, stomach growling. A mass of sticky mac and cheese, molded like a snowball, took him in the shoulder. That is not what I meant, he silently told the Ironic Overpower.

A pair of agents appeared before the table fort, seemingly out of thin air. The incredibly pale redheaded man had his hands in the pockets of his long coat, and was eyeing both Mia and Michael as if to decide which one should he go for first. The short, black-haired woman next to him was gently juggling one apple.

"Somebody wants to play with magic?" William Grey looked at Michael's wand. "As you wish then!"

The warlock spread out his arms, making the table fort slide away from the hidden team, and parting to the sides like the Red Sea.

A real magic user, Michael thought. Great. "Look, we don't have to figh--" he was cut off by his partner flinging an apple at the pale man's head.

"GET 'EM, GREENIE!" Mia roared, charging after her projectile.

Michael sighed, then raised his wand. I was having such a nice day before all of this, he thought. "Stupefy!" he said, aiming at the dark-haired woman. Maybe I can find an untouched boxed lunch hanging around somewhere...

Michael aimed the Knockback Jinx at the pale man, feeling horribly out of his league. Mia, on the other hand, looked frighteningly comfortable. She used her right forearm to sweep the dark-haired woman's downward strike aside and aimed a left-hand jab at her solar plexus. "Nice hockey stick!" she said, smirking.

"A'right, that was good," he said, when he got up from his knees. "I almost felt that. Come on, mate! Gimme somethin', any sort o' challenge."

The warlock flicked his hand very gently, making an small melon from the nearest table levitate and splash right next to Michael's head. It was more for the dramatic effect, rather than actual projectile.

"Come on, you need me to teach you how to use that thing?" he asked.

VJ smashed her stick against the floor, and felt her hands tremble from the aftershock. In her peripheral, however, she managed to notice the incoming attack. She jumped back, letting go of her weapon in process.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to just knock my partner out and let me leave?" he asked. He paused for a moment. "Cigarettes are bad for your health, you know."

Without even looking, Mia kicked the woman's fallen hockey stick into her own hands, then swung it upwards at her right side. The entire action took, at most, a second. "I heard that, Greenie!" she roared, not taking her eyes off her opponent.

Michael started, then raised his wand. "Serpensortia!" he said. A long black snake burst out of the wand, falling to the laminate with a sickening thud. The creature hissed, then started slithering towards the pale man. Its tongue flicked in and out, and its eyes glittered. Michael couldn't resist a shudder--he hated snakes.

That is to say, putting food in his mouth and chewing mechanically while thinking about something else, partially because of the food involved and partially because he was actually distracted.
His reverie was rudely disturbed by something splatting against his shoulder. He looked aside and saw a large, red stain on the shoulder of his uniform jacket. With a sigh he got up, only to duck down again as something that looked suspiciously like a bunch of Spikes flew over his head.

The mage looked at the enfolding chaos, winced as he saw someone get crushed under a not-quite-thin clown (of all things) and tried to plot a way to the exit that did not involve him going through multiple fights. Something rolled to a stop next to his feet and he had a second’s glance at it before exploded in a burst of white light, blinding and deafening him as flashbangs were wont to do.

Said dragonborn was clad in a pair of black swimming trunks, adorned with the Floaters flashpatch on the left leg. He was going for a bite, his mouth coated in electrity. One could assume this was his Breath Weapon. So basically, a thing with (probably) razor sharp fins and the ability to produce electricity was rushing the agent.

He would have done something, surely. As things stood, however, the task fell to Aparaat's Auto Guard function. The Device's gem flashed in time to some vaguely Dutch-sounding word and a hexagonal wall of hard light appeared between the still-dizzy mage and the dragonborn.

There was another flash of light — this time, centred on Navare — and suddenly he was wearing a spikier, more decorated version of his uniform. He looked decidedly less dizzy, although the long, black rifle that he held now was pointed at the floor.

...coming to a stop in front of it. He readjusted his glasses, and observed the structure. The voice the device produced and the field led him to believe it was Nanoha!verse, but it's voice was neither English or German. He didn't have time to contemplate, as the field lowered, revealing his his target. It confirmed his suspicion, but he didn't give the guy time to react.

He rushed in, spreading the fins on the end of his tail. He used it as a flail to disarm the guy of his gun.

By the time the shield-type spell went down Navare was already moving away; Nickul's tail passed twenty centimetres before his chest, completely missing him. The hexagonal sigil appeared beneath the mage's feet this time; a second later a veritable hail of small spheres of light left the rifle's barrel, all aimed at the dragonborn. A few went high, only to double down and back, cutting his escape route, or at the very least requiring some creative dodging.

He could try using his electric breath, but these were magical constructs so that could have the opposite of the effect he want. But he could try dodging. He was of a lanky body type, and his sea serpentine body could easily bend to dodge anything that meant harm.

... and avoiding cross-fire from the general mayhem; shield-type and barrier-type spells flashed up and down as he did so. He seemed keen on avoiding Nickul altogether, but when that failed, he stopped and turned to face the dragonborn, about twenty metres away from him. Navare said something, but is exact words were lost to the noises of the battle. A hexagonal sigil flowered beneath his feet again and a second one appeared before the barrel of his rifle; motes of light started gathering around it. Whatever it was, it was obviously more powerful than the Variable Bullets he shot at Nickul earlier.

And he recoiled, but the cast was done; a veritable multitude of energy beams split from the ball gathering before the rifle's barrel, lancing at everything in a five-metre circle around Nickul. They were instant and covered all conceivable avenues of retreat.
Navare, his Barrier Jacket still smoking from the electricity, took the option to roll out of sight behind an upturned table.

Unfortunately for the dragonborn, Kabupatenic-style spells are, as a rule, designed to take out much stronger opponents, so even Navare's B-ranked collection-type Bombardment spell packed quite a punch; unless Nickul's endurance was a hundred times greater than a normal person's, he was likely to be out for the count (and blown off his feet, if he lost traction).

...and stupid is not one of them. As he was approaching the wall, he had an arm reaching out. As he touched the wall he pulled his had back, shaking it. From what he had heard from his partner, Levy, he had inferred that Nanoha!magic might have been working Clarke's Third Law, so a blast of electricity might short the shield out. Might.

Nickul decided it wasn't worth it to pursue, so he looked for something else he could help. He noticed that his own partner's former partner, Ajax, as well as his partner, Matthew, Fighting two girls an a knight, so he thought he should help the duo.

Agent Hop ducked beneath a long table, which helped her avoid a sudden launch of Generic Gray Gruel. "Not funny!"

Suddenly every single piece of food in the cafeteria became a weapon. Bugels were flying, steaks were torn... Hell hath no fury like an agent scorned.

"I got hit," said Hip, wiping sauce off her cheek. Peeking from beneath the table, both women noticed the battlefield was getting more intense every second. Instead of just food, some agents with superpowers decided to either settle some old disputes, or simplu show-off their superiority.

"So what's the plan, captain?" Hip looked at Hop.

"Our mission is to get to the takeaway containers, o'er there," the former Time Agent pointed at the pile of styrofoam boxes, "catch wha'ever food is flyin', an' then dash to our RC to have a proper lunch. Yeh with me, love?"

"Always."

The agents relocated from beneath the table, to the side of it. They were completely vulnerable, but that won't matter if they're gonna be on the move.

Hop took a deep breath. "If I don' make it alive," she looked at Hip, "tell me girlfriend I love 'er."

Hip chuckled. "I'll be sure to let her know." She gave Hop a quick peck on the cheek. "Now go. I'll cover you."

Hearing the signal, Hop slid across the table and dashed towards the to-go boxes.

While dashing, Hop heard her partner casting spells covering her. Suddenly, in her peripheral she noticed somebody coming after her. She stopped in her tracks, did a forward roll, dodging a swing, and faced her opponent.

"Enjoyin' the party, love?" She smiled at the man, reaching for the sonic blaster strapped to her leg. "Well, 'm afraid I 'ave to make this quick. Try to keep up!"

After preventing a deadly tomato attack, Hip looked towards where it came from. She then saw a man rushing towards her. It didn't look like he wanted to have just a friendly foodfight.

...playing within his head, Matthew used his staff to strike the gun out of her hand, before he unleashed a flurry of jabs with it, following it up with a front legged dollyeo chagi as his foe attempted to back away.

"Sure, though the service is a bit rough." he paused. "Love."

Ajax faced the Knight confidently, his wings making up their two feet of height difference. He connected as many orbs as he could, channeling the energy charge into his scythe, and with that scythe, he intended to cut through his foe's defense. He unleashed his blade.

The impact of the hit was strong enough to make her wince in pain and wave her hand around, therefore she barely managed to avoid the jabs that came afterwards. She quickly dropped to the ground, grabbed Matthew's leg and pulled it. Then, she rolled back.

"Don' try to stop me!" She warned him, looking for her lost weapon.

Freelancer's shield absorbed Ajax's strike, however the Titan had been pushed several inches back. Meanwhile, Hip was looking around, hoping to find any sort of makeshift weapon. She couldn't survive just on magic alone, and if Freelancer gets sent back to his Amulet...

The answer came quickly, when she spotted a broken table leg; somebody must've been going hardcore.

She grabbed the leg and whispered, "Formstaff." The table leg got covered in purple light, and elongated itself into a staff with a crook on one end and a spike on the other.

In the meantime, Freelancer pushed forward, trying to make Ajax retreat.

"Aha! oh how the tables have turned." Matthew said to Hop, pointing the weapon at her. To be honest he wasn't a big Doctor Who fan, but a gun is a gun... usually.

Never the less, he pulled the trigger.

The knight was backing Ajax up, jabbing at him with it's lance. Ajax was intending to vault over it, attacking it's master. His chance came when the knight went for his feet. Ajax hopped onto the lance, running up the thing and toadstooling the knight's head.

He channeled dark energy into his fist, intending to punch the knight's master.

"Help me turn this table, Sir Jesse!" she yelled, taking hold of the worn edge. Food flew through the air around them, splattering on the ground and occasionally splattering them. Alleb felt a grin work its way onto her face at the sounds of the brawl--she hadn't had a decent, hand-to-hand fight in weeks.

Jesse stood, toppling back his chair, and took hold of the table with her. Together they heaved, turning the rectangle onto its side, dumping their lunches on the ground. Jesse adjusted the legs so they kept the thing up. Alleb peered over the top, ducking back down when a pile of greenish mashed potatoes--she hoped they were mashed potatoes--flew at her, striking the front of their barricade. "We are well positioned in this corner!" the swordmaiden said. "Now we have only to find worthy opponents!"

She looked over and, to her surprise, Jesse was also grinning. "I ain't seen a proper brawl since I left Kansas City," he said. He looked at her, brown eyes alight. "You ever been in one?"

"Are you or are you not talking to one of the wrestling champions of Alleble?" Alleb said, stretching the muscles in her arms. "I say we dash out, fight for a few moments, then return here before we are bloodied." She paused for a moment. "We fight to end the fight and bring peace, of course," she said, as an afterthought.

"Right," Jesse said, winking. "Sounds good." He held out his hand. "Together?"

Alleb clasped it firmly. "Together!"

They released each other, and with their own war cries--"Yeeehaw!"--"For Alleble!"--they vaulted over their table barricade and charged into the fray.

((Boy, this sounds fun! =D I might involve Michael and Mia later. Poor guys, they haven't been used since the Hunger Games RP.

Where a pogo stick speared down from the heavens, the clown attached to it screaming in defiance as she fell like an exceptionally overweight thunderbolt. It smashed the table next to the pair, and the clown backflipped off the pogo stick and produced a couple of boards stuck together from somewhere in her capacious, eyeball-searing trousers. The braces bounced rather theatrically.

Jesse, having seen clowns before, recovered first. Sensing a "worthy opponent," as Alleb had put it, he put his fists up and began bouncing on the balls of his feet, sizing up the massive woman who had just splintered a table. He smiled. "I wanna play," he said, then ducked as a stray clod of green beans passed through where his head had been.

Wobbles yelled and barrelled forward at Alleb, boards striking out in a haymaker blow to try and break the guard. At 6 feet tall and only under 300 pounds if you were a really good-natured liar, the barrelling was rather literal. Her gaze was laser-focused on the knight, since of the two she was probably the easier target for her particular brand of shock and awe.

Instinct told her to grab Wobbles' outstretched arm and haul the woman onto her own back, then use her leg muscles to toss her to the floor--but she guessed that that would not be the best strategy. The woman was massive. Alleb was forcefully reminded of Sir Mallik, wielding his great hammer with a head bigger than her rib cage. If there had been time, she would have gulped. But there was no time. She aimed a chop at the woman's wrist, trying to make her let go of her weapon.

She grunted with the effort of staying upright, staggering a few steps to the left from Jesse's impact, and then regained her footing, deftly avoiding the remnants of a pie skidding across the floor. "Hey, mister cowboy, if you get behind a horse, you get HURT!"

It was at this point that she flipped herself over in the air to land on her back... which, by sheer coincidence, would involve landing on Jesse unless he extricated himself in time.

He was tall, blond, and a cowboy. He was a momma's boy (but would die before he admitted it) and an excellent shot. He could hunt, skin, and herd cattle better than the rest. He was also in horrible, horrible pain, because of all the things he was, fast was not one of them.

Alleb gasped as she saw her partner crushed into the floor by Wobble's impact. The cowboy screamed, but the cry was cut off by the pressure on his lungs. "Alleb!" he rasped. "Help!"

Alleb rushed forward to do something--what that was, she wasn't sure--but before she had taken two steps an apple drilled into the side of her head, going only slightly slower than a professional fastball. The swordmaiden toppled over with a groan, lights flashing behind her eyes.

On the other side of the Cafeteria, Agent Mia smiled wickedly, and chose another target.

Flipping acrofatically to her feet and taking the opportunity to shake the stars out of her vision, she shouted her battle cry and resumed her interrupted bull rush at the Knight of Alleble. Of course, the run was checked slightly, and she'd taken care not to put too much of her considerable weight onto her other assailant's bone structure, but they were still gonna be hit by quite a lot of momentum.

((And yes, Alleb, this is Wobbles going into a grapple match with an experienced wrestler; Wobbles' usual fighting style involves bouncing around at range and hitting people only when the opportunity presents itself, but, y'know, disadvantage is fairer an' all that.))

She rolled out of the way of Wobbles' rush, stumbling to her feet. When I find who threw that apple, she thought, shaking her head to clear it. they shall wish that they were never born. She resumed her combat stance, backing up slightly to cover her fallen partner, who she could hear stirring. It felt like the time she had challenged Kindle--the keeper of the armory, a stout Glimpse and strong--to a match. The only difference was that he had weighed less than Wobbles.

Jesse, meanwhile, had managed to bring the ceiling of the cafeteria into focus. He had also determined that while nothing was broken, he was going to have a mess of bruises across his chest. Getting up was going to take a few moments and, judging by the way the fight was going, he didn't have a few moments.

A cream pie hit him in the face. He sighed. Next time, we're staying behind the table.

As Wobbles turned back around to face the knight, she saw the woman stood over her comrade and inwardly remarked that that'd be something she'd do if she was partnered with pretty much anyone else in the history of sentient life. She grabbed a miraculously unbroken stack of plates nearby and leaped into the air, hurling them like discuses at Alleb's wavering guard before grabbing a nearby table by the leg and swinging it like a tomahawk at the knight's midriff.

It was at this point that the first of a barrage of water jugs hit home, shattering on the back of her head, her enormous rainbow-striped wig doing only so much to cushion the impact.

She used her forearms as imperfect bucklers, deflecting or breaking them. For a moment, she was grinning: The sixth plate, however, caught her in the shoulder. She grunted, thrown off balance, and the next barrage slammed into her, each plate finding its mark. The final one shattered against her forehead--knights of Alleble have hard skulls--and she groaned, dizzy. She didn't see the table coming.

Jesse, however, did. He had managed to raise himself on one elbow, and when he saw Wobbles grabbing the table, he yanked on Alleb's leg, sending her crashing to the ground. The table whistled harmlessly overhead. Jesse felt accomplished for a moment.

And batted a few of the jugs aside. A few, but by no means all of them, and one of them was full of orange juice. This was the one that, of course, hit her in the face. So, when she turned back to face the two prone agents, her face was twisted in pain. Blood and orange juice was trickling down her face, mixing with her makeup and dripping thickly from her bright red nose. She looked like she was melting.

This, of course, was why she then threw herself skywards for a belly flop.

He'd seen his fair share of horror--he was, after all, a Civil War veteran--but the sight of an immense clown cresting a high jump, silhouetted by fluorescent lights and dripping blood and orange juice was new to him. He scrambled to the side, towing a dazed Alleb and wondering why his day had gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

She got to her feet, rubbing at one of her ribs through the flab, and then remembered watching one of the kids in Medical's long term children's ward play an old, old game on a PlayStation. It involved a small orange thing running around and spinning... and she remembered one of the bosses was bouncing around on what looked like a pogo stick. Now, how did the laugh go?

He managed to roll to his feet, and Alleb's head had cleared enough by this time for her to rise. "I do not know!" the swordmaiden replied. She grabbed a length of wood from the floor, a remnant of one of the tables, and held it as she would her sword. Jesse grabbed a table leg as the clown jumped toward them, laughing in a way that Alleb found most disturbing. The swordmaiden paused. If they were going to beat this woman, or at least survive, they needed a strategy. "Circle strife!" she barked. "Right left, left right, hold!"

For a moment, her partner looked at her like she was as insane as their opponent obviously was, but then his face broke into a grin. "Got it!" he said. The agents, bruised but still full of fight, charged.

((I've never actually played a Crash game, unfortunately. I do like Mario though.

Wobbles bounced and bounced and bounced atop her mighty spring-footed steed, her slapstick held high as she met the pair's charge with relish and vigour. She vaulted over Jesse's head and lashed a meaty arm at his shoulder while upside down, then managed to stick the landing as she bounced forward again, this time towards the more heavily-injured Alleb. She mimed blowing a cavalry bugle, complete with sound effects (which are difficult but not impossible to mime), and threw herself to the left as she got into striking distance of the sword, pushing her weight low to the ground like a motorcyclist on a high-speed bend as she aimed for the woman's knees with a sweep of both legs and metal pole.

((Please do feel free to have Alleb and Jesse land some blows. I've been trying to leave openings for them.))

Jesse gaped as he watched Wobbles vault over him in slow motion. A drop of orange juice landed on his cheek. Her blow took him completely off guard, and he stumbled, cursing.

Alleb, on the other hand, was ready. She jumped over Wobbles, then slashed down with her length of wood, intending to conk the clown in the head. She prayed it would be enough to at least make her pause. This woman's Glimpse is from the Blue Mountains, I do not doubt, she thought. She more than matched them in size and strength.

((I shall try! Tell me if I'm letting my agents get away with too much, by the way. I've never really been in an RP like this one before.

The blow was strong enough to daze her, but the real damage came from the momentum it imparted; the force of Alleb's strike sent her out of control and she smacked her head heavily on the floor. Her pogo stick squealed a complaint as it embedded itself in a table, and she pulled it out with a grunt as her free hand groped for her comically-undersized bowler hat.

Which she poked the dent out of with a finger, then put back on her head.

Then she threw the pogo stick like a javelin at Jesse's retreating back and hurled herself at Alleb once more, tearing the tubular metal leg off one of the dining chairs and screaming defiance.

No more dodging! she thought. It was foolhardy--Wobbles was nearly twice her size. But the swordmaiden refused to back down. She charged Wobbles even as Wobbles charged at her, hands already up to catch the chair leg when it came at her.

Jesse, meanwhile, after taking a pogo stick to the back (in addition to a clown to the ribs, an arm to the shoulder, and a pie to the face) had decided that either he had lost whatever fighting talent he had possessed back in Kansas City, or that he had never had any talent in the first place. In either case, he was talent-less. He managed to heave himself up from his pillow of green mashed potatoes, then stumbled to his feet, groaning and feeling at the place on his back where the pogo stick had impacted. He turned back towards where his partner had been. "Hey, Alleb, do--" he broke off, then cursed vehemently, and rushed back towards the fight.

The Agents of RC# 637R3K7M8 were holed up in a square fortress of 4 tables. His partner Matthew had somehow acquired a crossbow, and was using it to return fire. Conversely, Ajax himself was using his hydrokinetic abilities to forge a flying tendril of water. Said tendril was littered with the weaponized food, ramming itself into Ajax's opponets.

An eggplant found it's way into their defense, and for some reason had a cord that was lit on fire. An Eggplant Grenade. Matthew threw the eggplant back over their wall, where it exploded.

Just in time for a ballistic sandwich to catch him full in the face and bowl him over backwards. He bounced back manfully, though, and in a credit to his almost-certainly-not-real German heritage, he scraped it off on a water glass (which took him longer than he cared to admit), flicked through his movepool, selected Waterfall, Aqua Jet, Spikes, and Supersonic, and entered the fray with a screaming battle cry.

Which was almost immediately silenced by yet another ballistic sandwich, but it was a cheese ploughman's with mango chutney so he didn't really mind.

She noticed Ajax first, but he was about to enact scythe themed justice to a knight with an absurdly large lance. His new partner, Michael was? Was fighting another, of whom she inferred was the women behind the knight's partner (The Knight seemed to absurd and stoic to be an actual agent, so it might have been from another Mons series), so she decided to let him be. Her new partner, Nickul, disappeared to who knows where. Eventually her eyes landed upon a pink puffer fish looking thing.

She summoned her chains, initially using them similarly to a 3DMG. Oh how she missed her wings. Sailing over head of her target, she sent the chains towards it, wrapping it in the chains. She then used her momentum to barrel roll, causing the fish to sail over her, and slammed it back into the ground, should it not react.

((In ways other than "Doktor Trollenfisch used Aqua Jet!". While there's entries on Bulbapedia telling you how the moves look in the anime, the Doktor ain't from the main Pokémon universe - any of its properties, come to that. He comes from Pokémon Showdown, a distinctly unofficial battling simulator. It's... not making things as easy as they ought to be.))